


Verona Serenade

by RodeoQueen



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bookshop and Café Dates, Dating, Delightfully Vague, F/M, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Other, can you find rodeo's the fault in our stars reference?, mentions of scars, prose, sfw, yes reader represents the sun and v represents the shadow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29576529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodeoQueen/pseuds/RodeoQueen
Summary: V takes you out on a date, and it’s poetry as always.
Relationships: V (Devil May Cry) & Reader, V (Devil May Cry)/Original Character(s), V (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s), V (Devil May Cry)/Original Male Character(s), V (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Kudos: 18





	Verona Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> _Rodeo’s Two Pieces: A V/Reader one-shot for a certain anonymous darling._

Ever mysterious, V had texted you out of the blue, asking you to meet up at Devil May Cry. You raised your brow, wondering what this could be about. 

_V: Have you some time to spare?_

_You: Um, sure. What for?_

_V: Meet me at Dante’s shop._

And so you did. 

He was waiting by the brick building, reading his book as usual. Upon your form in his sight, he shut it and greeted you with a kiss. 

“What’s up, V?” You ask him. 

“I’m taking you out for the day.” 

“Oh?” 

He offers a small smile, and you quickly linked arms with him. 

Walks with V were always quiet, yet you could go along his wavelength. 

So now here you were, sitting in a café with V, sipping something nice while V sat across from you, chin resting on his hand, admiring you. 

“Is this your way of going on a date with me?” You asked. 

“I prefer to tread silently.” You laugh, fingers tracing the rim of your porcelain cup. 

Cold yet comforting, he reaches over to trace your skin with his thumb. A delicate caress against your wrist, he hums. 

“You haven’t been feeling like yourself, haven’t you?” 

You think of the stares he gave you during the harder days you’ve faced, where your burden weighed your frown strongly. Not stares of judgment or scrutinization but-

Something of a careful curiosity. Of a patient lover. 

“Yeah...Thank you, V.” 

The sun shines on your face as you flip through a book you found in a bookstore V took you, knowing your favorite novel was to be released this week. He held onto his leather one, not seeking any new thrills on freshly printed ink. 

You and V are hidden away from everyone else, secluded to enjoy things as they are, rightfully alone as pressed pages become leavened with human touch and cups become empty. 

The sun has begun to stretch against the sky, her radiance becoming saturated orange. 

A street performer had taken a seat by the fountain next to the open seated café, taking out a violin and leaving the case open for tips. He placed his instrument against his chin, the bow against the body of the violin, at peace with his art. 

A man with his ear against the heart of a wooden lover, the strings began to sing. 

With a few dollars in your pocket, you opt to give it to the violin player after a few songs. You get up to crack your joints, V deciding to come with you. 

“You play beautifully.” You complimented the man as he took a break, gently setting the few bills down. Turning back around, you notice V staring-

“Eyes up here!” He smirks fondly. 

Twirling his cane in his hand, V noticed that the musician had begun to play a romantic ballad, and the square was barren of folk. In the wings of the aubade, this dark-leather angel humbly bows to his darling. 

“May I have this dance?” He looks up to you, a crown of dark hair framing his pale-face like an inky portrait frame. 

“Of course.” 

A clink of his cane against the ground begins the promenade.

His palm, engraved lines of life and of tumultuous journey, take upon your own, two lovers born with maps that only lead to each other. 

Hand with yours, and one upon your waist, he took to the cobblestone like the theatre. You allowed yourself to be swayed, moving languidly where those sandals bring you. Jade against the sun, warmed and soothing, his eyes never left yours, half-lidded treasures that only want to be perceived by you. 

You dance, and you dance. You spin and you are taken away from what used to make you sad, from what you were scarred from. 

After a peaceful infinity, the music stops gently, V gracefully holding you close to his chest. The musician claps for you, weathered hands of amused applause, his instrument tucked in his arm. 

“The beautiful couple is beautiful.” 

And the sun kisses the mountain’s horizon, in this Verona Serenade. 


End file.
